


Carpe Diem, bro.

by sippingonstardust



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics), Teen Titans - All Media Types, Young Justice - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Fluff and Humor, Friendships and frat houses, Gen, alcohol consumption, most of these characters are name dropped
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-17
Updated: 2019-03-17
Packaged: 2019-11-19 14:51:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18137180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sippingonstardust/pseuds/sippingonstardust
Summary: Jason may not remember how he made it back into his bed, with only one shoe, no socks and glitter in his hair. But he definitely remembers how it all started.





	Carpe Diem, bro.

**Author's Note:**

> Anonymous said:  
> I hv this college AU in my head where all the bat kids (of age so i guess no Damian) are in uni and meet/hang with the teen titans and young justice bunch Wally snd Dick do sports together, Steph and Duke judge from afar while fooling around with board games. Jason and Victor Stone play beer pong idk i fuck with it
> 
> I wrote this thing impulsively, btw. I kind of want to write more.

Jason may not remember how he made it back into his bed, with only one shoe, no socks and glitter in his hair. But he definitely remembers how it all started.

The break begins with Dick banging on his door at the ass crack of dawn, a disgruntled Tim in tow and a bellini in hand.

“Carpe diem, baby bro.”

They fumble their way through making breakfast, keeping Alfred on facetime even with all the swearing and cursing and dropped utensils. Damian pops across the screen from time to time to whine about being bored at home and mock their collective incompetence.

It’s a huge spread; they’re cooking for mostly college athletes, after all. Dick goes around forcing extra bits of bacon and pancakes and fruit onto the freshman’s plates. Bart and Jaime dig in earnestly, but Tim takes an extra dose of coaxing because he’s too stubborn for his own good. Dick persists though, roping in a sagely Steph to remind Tim that he’ll probably be the first one to pass out anyways.

“Hey.  _Hey!_ No assignments at the table, today’s about getting wasted.”

Raven flips Wally the bird, slapping her laptop closed and leaning over to slip it back into Kory’s tote.

“Do something productive,” Garfield says. “Take this and knock it back. Show us who’s boss.”

She leers at the offered beer with disinterest. “It’s not even 10 yet.”

“Exactly, daylight’s burning.”

“I seriously doubt our only goal today is to just get wasted.” Duke’s worried voice draws the attention of all the seniors. They exchange amused glances over his head.

“You poor, innocent little bean,” Zatanna says, throwing her arms around him. “You’re in a frat house full of NCAA athletes and scholastic decathlon nerds who don’t get the chance to drink for most of the semester. Today is  _absolutely_  about getting wasted.”

***

He’s somewhere between buzzed and tipsy. Happy in the warmth of the sun.

It’s the first time in a while that he’s felt the tension of school slip away from his shoulders. His assignments are done, his family and friends are all around him and he’s having the time of his life watching Cass mix extra vodka into the already triple spiked rum punch. It’s both disgusting and delicious. And judging from the way Kon’s draped himself over Tim in a nearby lawn chair, it acts fast.

Barrelling straight towards blackout drunk for no other reason than the glory of college is an utterly fascinating idea and Jason finds it hilarious how willing most of them are to participate.

Dick’s already been amped up to giggly and incoherent. He and Wally are hunched over a phone, snickering at something Jason hopes is just the front camera opened up to their stupid faces.

“Here you go, buddy.” Roy’s voice grabs his attention as he passes over a plastic-wrapped sandwich to him. “You good?”

It’s the third time he’s asked for the day. Despite the fact that Jason is kinda wasted, he knows that Roy’s probably a little uncomfortable being around most of the people he loves, watching them get hammered while he’s stone cold sober.

“Yeah. You?” he asks through a bite of tuna on whole wheat.

“Peachy. Wanna go let Steph and Babs crush our asses at poker?”

****

“Can we go get fro-yo?”

Tim’s voice is soft and buttery, the way it gets when he’s shit-faced. Jason can hear Kon murmuring in agreement and Duke’s firm denial over the base of a Rihanna song. They’re a mess of gangly legs, draped over each other on the lumpy couch. He’s so caught up in watching the way their alcohol-induced affection is driving Duke up a wall, that he misses Raven taking her turn.

He groans as the ball lands in a red solo cup. Kory grins wildly, hooking her chin over Raven’s shoulder; they're both wearing looks of smug victory and he just knows he’s going to have the worst hangover tomorrow as he plucks another half-filled cup between his fingers, forcibly gulping down the amber liquid it holds. Vic slides over for his turn. He throws the ball and lets out a hiss as it misses the cup in the middle of the table, completely. Garth gives Jason a sympathetic head shake as he steps up to throw back the beer.

“It’s not  _fucking_  fair. How are you both star football players, bro? You guys suck at this.”

Vic laughs, pointing a finger at him. “I’m letting that slide because you’re the one throwing back my drinks for me.”

“Hey,” Raven intones. “It could be worse, Kory wanted to do this with tequila.”

“I’m actually hoping to leave college with my liver intact. Please, and thank you.”

Steph’s laughter, bubbly and sharp, cuts over the music. “Remember in freshman year when you got high and asked me how likely it was you’d survive a liver transplant?”

“You’re in med school, I thought you would know!”

She still laughing at him when she turns back to the complicated game of jenga she and Cass have had going for the past hour. He’s way too mellow to even begin to understand it, but he strongly suspects Cass is cheating.

***

Somewhere along the lines of beer pong and pizza; Artemis Crock and Cissie King-Jones, the ace co-captains of the archery team, talk Duke and Tim into doing shots. He watches for a good ten minutes before he’s suckered right in alongside them. When Tim does inevitably pass out, Kaldur— who’s sober and very amused— lugs him off to bed.

That’s right along where his memory get’s fuzzy. He knows there was dancing. He remembers being tugged along by Kory and yelling Beyoncé lyrics at the top of his lungs as he’s sandwiched between his siblings and his friends.

There are flickers of Kyler Rayner doing body shots and double dog dares with Mia Dearden and Connor Hawke. He has a video on his phone of Bart doing a keg stand while Wally looks on with a mixture of horror and pride plastered across his face. There’s a whole album of Dick trying to pet a stray cat, his nose red and the pictures getting blurrier and blurrier as his allergies set in.

After that, he thinks it was suggested that they all go outside to watch the sunrise. Someone— one of the redheads — had placed a steadying hand on his back as he swayed from foot to foot. He’s pretty sure he confessed his undying love to them.

****

When he does wake up, it’s because his head feels ready to fall off his shoulders and his mouth tastes like ass. The whole house stinks of sweat and the floors are sticky with spilt drinks. He bumps into Kon in the hallway, they exchange withering stares and a fist bump before parting ways.

He finds everyone in the kitchen— with the exception of Roy, whose a chipper bastard— in a similar state of dissonance with their bodies. Dick’s got his head in Kory’s lap and his feet in Wally’s. Tim sits across the table from them, staring at a glass of water like it personally offended him and Steph’s on the floor to the left of him, forehead pressed to the fridge. She has glitter in her hair too.

“Mornin’ sunshine,” Roy laughs. “You look like shit warmed over.”

“Thanks, man.” He spares him a glance, “Did you put me to bed last night?”

“I did,” Kory answers, her voice rough like gravel.

“Thanks, dude. Where’d my shoe go?”

“Dunno. Found you without it, I think.”

In the living room, Jaime’s lying face down on the couch with a pillow over his head, Bart keeps shuffling over to check his pulse and then back to the kitchen to gulp down water. Roy feeds them all toast and grins when a fresh-faced Cass breezes in through the doors. She plops a bottle of Advil onto the table gently and then sweeps away to watch the ensuing chaos.

“Me. _First_.” Tim growls, snatching it out of Dick’s hands.

Steph rouses herself then, looking around the room bleary-eyed. She clocks Jason and his head full of glitter, raising one hand to twist her fingers through her blonde locks, and then her other one to point at him like, _“Hey, same.”_

Donna drags herself in a little bit later. She immediately flings herself into a chair and drops her head down onto the table with a clunk that surely worsened her hangover headache. Vic and Kaldur, fairing better than the rest of them, snort through their breakfast as Roy peels off his sweatshirt to place it under her head.

He finds his shoe floating in the tub of quadruple rum-punch when their cleaning that evening. Garfield laughs so hard at him for a good ten minutes before clutching his skull and dropping down onto the porch steps, weakly.

At a quarter to four, Duke walks down the steps wearing the face of a man who knows nothing but utter betrayal.

“I’m letting you all know,” he calls. “I am not doing this again next year. I feel like death and I wanna call Alfred and cry.”

“Aw, Duke,” Dick coos. “Same.”


End file.
